DÉJÀ VU
by Anything Goes Twific Contest
Summary: Five years, a marriage, and a divorce. How do two people come back from that?


**DÉJÀ VU**

 **Summary** : Five years, a marriage, and a divorce. How do two people come back from that?

 **Pairing** : Edward/Bella

 **Rating** : T

 **Word Count** : 4, 619

 **Disclaimer** : The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **DÉJÀ VU**

Her hands tremble. She was attempting a small sip of hot chocolate but quickly decides against it; she would prefer it remained in the large mug rather than on her clothes. Placing the cup down, she rubs her sweaty palms onto her jeans, inhaling sharply.

It's hard to say why she's so nervous. Logically, she knows he hasn't changed. Not really. Despite five years, a marriage, and a divorce separating them, he's still the same boy she fell in love with over fifteen years ago: beautiful, soft-spoken, and perceptive. Always perceptive. He's still the same man she stood beside on the day of his wedding: understanding, remorseful, and hopelessly romantic.

Logically, she knows he wouldn't have called her, wouldn't have asked to meet in the diner that holds too much of their history, if he didn't mean well. But her heart has been broken once already, and it's hard to shake off the fear and nagging insecurity telling her this is all too good to be true.

"Darling, is your hot cocoa okay?"

Bella jumps when the waitress gently touches her shoulder. She looks up to see kind blue eyes and a familiar smile. "Hi, Ms. Cope. I didn't realize you were working today."

Ms. Cope chuckles, shrugging. "I wasn't supposed to come in today, but old ladies like me get bored easily in too big homes when we're alone. I called Jim, and he happened to have a few hours to mess with." She waves her hand dismissively. "But I didn't come over to force you to listen to me go on about my life. How's the chocolate?"

"You're hardly a bore, Ms. Cope. You know I love talking to you. But my drink is good, as usual." Bella takes a deep breath, eyes darting toward the door for a moment. "I'm just waiting for someone."

* * *

At 2:30, her phone buzzes in her pocket, scaring her more than Ms. Cope had. She fishes it out and contemplates letting it go to voicemail for only a second. He doesn't waste time with pleasantries.

"I'm outside," he says, sounding as breathless as she feels. "I know even coming here is more than you should have to deal with. If you don't want to do this, if you don't want to see me, tell me now. I'll leave without causing trouble."

His offer is tempting, but the thought of him leaving–again– makes her angry. After sucking her back into the whirlwind that is their relationship without advanced warning, he doesn't get to abandon ship before stepping on board.

"I want to see you." She needs to see him.

* * *

When Edward walks in, everything around her comes to a halt. He's not beautiful—he's breathtaking. His hair isn't nearly as messy as she remembers, but it's still the same odd, bronze-like color he'd inherited from his mother. And his eyes are still kind, but now there's an emotion lurking in them she's never seen before. It makes her heart pound. His smile is nervous, but it's bright and warm just like her memories of him.

He begins to walk over, and Bella stands. She doesn't know what to say, let alone what to do, but the moment he's in front of her, he kindly takes the decision away from her. She melts in his embrace, burying her face in his chest and breathing in his scent. Suddenly, their years apart feel like centuries, and she realizes she's missed him even more than she allowed herself to believe.

"Don't cry, love." Edward pulls back just enough to look her in the eyes, swiping at her tears. "Everything's going to be all right."

Bella huffs. Taking a step back, she wipes her own eyes, cheeks flushing; she's never been one to let others in on what she's feeling. She can't decide if it's embarrassing or appropriate that her first public breakdown happens in this diner of all places. Probably a combination of both.

They sit, and for a time things are awkward. Now that they're both here in front of each other, neither knows where to start. Realistically, the best place to begin for either of them would be the beginning, but it had always been hard to distinguish beginning from end and back with them.

"Edward Cullen?"

They both startle, searching for the source of the astonished voice. Ms. Cope is standing behind the counter, coffee pot in hand. She finishes servicing the young man at the counter then rushes over to them. A wide, surprised grin stretches across her face.

"I haven't seen you in ages, child. How are you doing?" she asks, reaching out to pat his cheek. "How's that pretty wife of yours?"

Edward laughs, though the sound is short and disingenuous. "We're both doing well, Ms. Cope. Thank you." After Ms. Cope finally leaves, done fawning over her "favorite boy," Edward asks, "Were you waiting long?"

Bella simply shakes her head. She'll never admit to arriving an extra two hours earlier than the they'd set weeks before, feeling she'd need the time to get rid of at least half of her nerves.

Edward picks at his food, a nervous habit he's had since he was a child. He pops a piece of overcooked steak into his mouth and chews slowly, obviously stalling. Bella finds herself growing impatient; they both know why they're here, and it isn't to beat around the bush.

"I suppose my condolences are in order," she says, jumping straight to the point. "Your divorce is unfortunate, and I'm sorry." She rips her hamburger in half, nibbling it. "Genuinely."

He sighs, running his long fingers through his hair. "Yeah. Thanks. We loved each other, we really did, but we both knew we weren't meant to be more than friends. Distant friends." He understands Bella's need to speed things along, so he doesn't waste any more time. He admits, "She came to me about questioning her sexuality, and I confessed to being in love with you. I've always been in love with you."

Seconds tick by slowly. The patrons in the diner are unaware of the storm brewing in Bella. She's reeling at what Edward has said. Her fear from before is rearing its ugly head, making it hard to believe him. Isn't "I'm leaving my wife for you" the oldest lie in the book?

She wants to gather her things and leave before the tears can start again, but she can't bring herself to move.

"Bullshit," Bella snaps, surprising them both with the force she uses to bring her hand down onto the table. "I knew this was going to happen. I'd hoped you were too good to do this to me, but clearly I placed my faith in the wrong person. After all this time, how could you do this to me again? How could you bring me back to this place?" The tears pool in her eyes against her will, and she scrubs angrily at them. "Why are you doing this?"

Wide-eyed and worried, Edward reaches out to take her hands, flinching when she pulls them away harshly. "Birdie—"

"Don't call me that." She wraps her arms around herself tightly, a coping mechanism she's used since she was a child. She'd always felt it was the only way to keep from falling apart.

He visibly swallows. "Bella, I'm not…I understand your frustration, and I know why you're angry, but I promise you that's not why I'm here. After Tanya and I talked, I knew I had to make things right between us. I had to try and make things the way they were always meant to be, but I knew I couldn't do that before everything between Tanya and me was finalized.

"The moment they were, I called you. I told you we'd divorced, and I asked to see you. Not to make you my rebound and not to fuck with your feelings but to see if there's still a chance for us. All those years ago, every single time you tried to take a chance on me, I ruined us.

It's not an excuse, but I was scared. After seeing my mom put up with that abusive asshole for years, I was determined not to become like her. Like him. I just wanted to protect myself from ever being hurt and possibly hurting someone, so every time I found myself feeling too strongly for you, I'd push you away."

Bella can vividly recall those times clearly.

When they were twelve, they shared their first kiss, and he avoided her for a month.

On her sixteenth birthday, he snuck into her room with all of their favorite movies, candies, and matching footie pajamas—a long forgotten joke that he reawakened—and they talked and cuddled all night, finally admitting to one another that what they felt was more than platonic. The next morning, he snuck out before she woke, and he let a whole year pass before speaking to her again.

When she was twenty-five, he invited her to his apartment. He complained about his most recent breakup with his on-again-off-again girlfriend, Tanya. And she comforted him as usual, holding him while he got a little tipsy and cried. When he kissed her, she knew it wasn't a good idea, but she loved him so much—she always had—and she thought maybe their time had finally come. But then, two weeks later, she got the Save the Date in the mail, and her whole world shattered. After for whatever reason agreeing to be his Best Girl, she was the one to leave him.

Now, five years later, here they are. Edward is divorced, and Bella is a wreck, still in love with the boy, and now the man, who'd done nothing but hurt her.

Edward sips on his water. When he's done, he licks the excess off his lips and sighs. "Every single time I messed up, I thought about running back to you and apologizing and telling you the truth, but I let my fear get the best of me, and I kept running away. And once you'd had enough and we stopped talking, I just…gave up, you know?

"But then I found _our_ box mixed in with a bunch of stuff Dad pulled out of storage, and I was floored. All of our pictures, our notes, our plans. Everything. I'd never forgotten about you, but I'd never let myself truly feel. Not long after that, things with Tanya came to head, and I just couldn't keep living the way I was. I couldn't keep being afraid, and I couldn't keep denying myself the love of my life.

"I'm here because I have to try, even if nothing comes of this."

Her anger doesn't evaporate immediately after his confession, but it softens. The gleam of sincerity in his eyes stirs awake the hope that had been diminishing. But the nagging fear is still there—the voice in the back of her head questions why this time would be any different.

"I want to be with you," Edward says, hesitantly reaching across the table again. When she doesn't pull away, he takes her hands in his and squeezes. "I want to let us both have the happiness I've denied us for so long. How does that sound?"

It sounds lovely, Bella has to admit. It sounds like everything she's ever wanted to hear and more. But she's not convinced enough to try. Not yet.

"I don't know what to say," she whispers, staring down at their intertwined hands. "I've always wanted us to be together, but now…You've hurt me so many times, and I can't just forget about that because you got a divorce. I can't jump into a relationship with you just because you finally decided to apologize."

He nods, disappointed understanding marring his features.

"While I do appreciate your apology more than you'll ever know, I need time to think. Time to decide if the risk is worth it." She winces, hoping her words aren't too harsh. "Is that okay?"

Edward nods, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips. "Of course. Waiting is the least I can do."

They finish their meal in silence. Occasionally they meet each other's gaze, both of them trying to decipher the feelings in their eyes, but more than anything else, they're in their own heads. Bella thinks about all the times Edward hurt her, comparing them to all the better, loving memories she has of him. By far, the good times outweigh the bad, but heartache is hard to get over.

After their plates are cleared from the table and Ms. Cope gushes over them for a few more minutes, Bella and Edward gather their things and head outside. They walk slowly to Bella's car, lingering in the empty parking lot.

"I guess this is goodbye," Edward murmurs, reaching out to open the door for her.

Bella nods, tossing her things into the passenger seat. "For now."

Briefly, they hug, clinging to each other like their lives depend on it. Edward kisses the top of her head, and she inhales deeply, committing his scent—this moment—to memory.

"I'll see you later, then," Edward declares before walking away, only looking back once.

* * *

Two weeks later, her best friend has invited herself over for a sleepover. Movies, ice cream, and worn, hot pink gown in hand, Alice pushes her way into Bella's apartment once the door has been opened. After dropping her things down in the living room, the tiny woman is a blur of bright colors and shining jewelry, taking Bella's hand and dragging her to the bedroom.

"Here's the plan," Alice announces when they're standing in front of Bella's dresser. "You're going to put on your most favorite pair of jammies, and then we're going to turn on our favorite movies, eat junk food, and finally talk. No 'buts' for an answer, okay?"

Bella only nods, still too stunned to speak. Alice leaves, and she begins to undress, thinking she shouldn't bee too surprised. When Bella got home from meeting with Edward, she became a clam, refusing to speak to anyone about what she feeling and thinking, including Alice.

The first week, Alice understood. She's never been one to rush people into opening up and spilling their guts before they were ready. By week two, however, Alice claimed she couldn't stand by doing nothing any longer; she didn't like the way her best friend was moping around, so she made it her mission to put an end to it.

At first, Bella was a little irritated, feeling she wasn't up to talking yet, but her irritation slowly turned to a stronger appreciation for her friend the more her conflicting thoughts ate away at her. She needed to talk to someone, and there was no better person than Alice. There rarely ever was.

So, it was a surprise that should not have truly been a surprise when Alice finally showed up.

Stripping out of her work clothes, Bella throws on an old, too big Nirvana t-shirt and green PINK sweats. As she makes her way back to the living room, she pulls her long, dark brown hair into a high, loose ponytail.

"I'm glad you came," she says to Alice, flopping down beside her on the couch. "I've been struggling about what to do, and I could use an ear."

Alice laughs, passing over a tub of double chocolate chip ice cream. "Of course! I'm sorry to have come over so unannounced, but I remembered this was how we used to do it back in high school." She reaches over to grab the DVD remote off the coffee table, pressing play so the sounds of _Jurassic World_ become background noise. Tossing the remote back down, she tucks her legs underneath herself and turns back to Bella. "So, what's been going on?"

"More than I'd like to be dealing with," she mutters, rolling her eyes.

"Edward?" Alice guesses.

Bella nods, stabbing her ice cream with her spoon. "Edward." She sighs. "I can't stop thinking about the conversation we had a few weeks ago. Well, the conversation he had, I should say."

"Right. You never told me about that. What happened?"

"He talked. I got angry. He talked more, and I got a little less angry but not any less hurt," she summarizes. "And then he told me he loves me, has always loved me, and all I could say was I needed time to think—time to decide if he's worth giving a second chance to."

Alice licks her spoon, eyebrow arched in question. "Is he?"

"No. Yes. I don't know," she admits, popping a chocolate chunk into her mouth. "I'm scared."

"I'd ask of what, but I think I already have an idea." Alice leans in closer, nervously chewing on her lip for a moment. "Tell me to stop when my unsolicited advice gets on your nerves, but I've been thinking about this for a while and not just concerning you. Fear is a part of life. A part of love. Whether you choose to be with Edward or someone else, you're always going to be a little afraid of something.

"Afraid of being hurt. Afraid of losing them. Afraid of being judged and lied to and on and on the list goes. Fear is always going to be there, so you can't factor it in when you're making life-changing decisions. Not completely, at least. Most of the decision should lie with everything else you're feeling and thinking."

Bella takes Alice's hand, understanding that the "unsolicited advice" is just as much for Alice as it is for her.

"I love my brother dearly, but I don't want you to be with him if you're not one hundred percent positive he's worth the risk. And I love you, too, so I don't want to see you miss out on this amazing chance at something good and regret it for the rest of your life just because you're a little scared."

Bella considers everything her friend has said, knowing she's right. She's always lived her life cautiously, too afraid to take risks that could possibly hurt her in the end. She's never considered it a bad way to live, however, not even when her mother sat her down several years ago to tell her the same thing. Maybe now she's reconsidering; Alice's thoughts aren't far off from what Bella has been thinking, anyway.

"I couldn't handle it if he leaves again, Ali," she whispers. "I can't."

Alice pats her hand, nodding in understanding. "I know. And I'm not trying to blame you for being afraid or accuse you of being unreasonable or anything of that nature. I just want you to consider all sides of the coin."

"I know. I will." She exhales heavily. "Just not tonight."

Alice smirks, jumping up when the doorbell rings. "Of course not. Now that we've talked, the rest of the night will be nothing but pizza and dinosaurs and gorgeous people on our TV screen." Scooping up her clutch, Alice shoots for the door, her hot pink nightgown dancing after her.

Bella watches her go, feeling lighter than she has in weeks.

* * *

Her hands tremble. She's sipping on a cold, tall glass of strawberry milkshake. It's nearly gone, so she isn't worried about it spilling on her clothes. When it's gone, she sits it down and wipes her hands on her pants, unsure how much of her wet palm is from the glass and how much is from sweat.

It's hard to say why she's so nervous. Logically, she knows he's changed. Completely. After fives years, a marriage, and a divorce, he's not the same boy she fell in love with over fifteen years ago: angry, afraid, and running. Always running. And he's not the same man she stood next to on the day of his wedding: cowardly, fake, and still running.

Logically, she knows she wouldn't have called him, wouldn't have asked him to meet her at her new favorite restaurant where only good things have ever happened, if she didn't believe with every ounce of her being that he's changed. But her heart's been broken once already, and it's hard to shake off the fear and nagging insecurity telling her this is all too good to be true. However, she's learned that fear is a part of life. If she isn't afraid, if her stomach isn't full of an infinite amount of quivering butterflies, how could she be sure he's the one?

"Hey, girly." Warm brown skin crinkles around warmer brown eyes, and a bright, familiar grin showcases blinding white teeth, practically shinning in the light. "You ready to order yet?"

Bella starts, only mildly surprised by the sudden company. "Hey, Vick. Not yet." Her cheeks flush. "I'm waiting for someone."

Victoria smirks, wagging her eyebrows playfully. "Hot date running a little late?"

"Something like that," Bella allows, laughing.

* * *

At 2:30, her phone buzzes, interrupting the annoying, all too addicting game she was playing. Her heart drums against her chest when his name flashes across her screen. She answers immediately. He stalls with pleasantries.

"Hi," he murmurs, as breathless as she feels. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well," she answers, no trace of impending doom in her voice. "Are you here?"

Edward hums in acknowledgement. "I am, yes." He hesitates, and she can picture him running his fingers through his odd, bronze-colored tresses. "Before we do this, I just want you to know that your decision won't change anything. Even if we're just friends, I'll still love you. Our friendship has always been just as important to me."

Bella smiles. She's thought about that, too. Wondered if they'd be able to salvage their friendship if she refused a romantic relationship with him. She supposes they'll never know now. Hopes they'll never know.

"Come inside, Edward." She needs to see him.

* * *

When Edward walks inside, everything around her comes to a halt. He's not beautiful—he's breathtaking. Ethereal. His hair is wild, like he's been combing his fingers through it all night long, and his eyes are downcast, a nervous smile on his lips. He's afraid of what's going to happen today, and Bella can relate.

He beings to walk over, and Bella stands. The moment he's close enough, she launches into his arms, locking her arms around his waist like a vice grip. Edward stumbles slightly from the shock, and she chuckles, pulling back slightly so he can regain his footing. She allowed herself to miss him after they saw each other again, and she's been envisioning their second reunion since she'd come to her decision.

They pull away from each other, and it's clear to see Edward's entire mood has changed. His green eyes are bright, lit by his joy and amusement, and his infamous crooked grin has made an appearance.

"Wow, okay. This is a stark contrast from the last time we saw each other," he says, laughing. "But I'm not arguing."

Bella grins, teasing, "You think? I've had a crazy sense of déjà vu all day."

"I've a little of the same feeling, but mostly today's been different. Better."

They sit, and Victoria arrives almost immediately to take their order, winking at Bella in approval. When she leaves, they watch each other for a moment. The silence is companionable, and the air around them is electric; it buzzes with renewed hopes and dreams and, if Bella is honest, suppressed lust.

They chit chat until the food arrives, discussing the most mundane things from work to favorite TV Shows. After Victoria leaves again, the mood shifts, and they appear to be on the same page instantly: bluntness.

"I suppose we should—"

"It's probably best if—"

They laugh. Edward gestures toward Bella, indicating she should go first. This time, she's the one reaching across the table, taking his larger hand in hers. She strokes his long, slender fingers, remembering all the times she's watched them dance across the piano keys.

"Five years ago," she began, "I was still a naïve little girl who didn't know right from left. I was someone who was afraid—downright terrified—of living an 'adventurous' life. I didn't believe in taking risks, and I never fought for what I wanted." Edward squeezes her hand then, and she smiles. "But I'm thirty now, and I've come to realize I have a great family. I have amazing friends who love me. I have a good job.

"But every day, a small part of me worries something is going to go wrong. I become afraid I'm going to lose everything that matters to me. However, I don't let that fear stop me from being with my family or loving my friends or waking up in the morning to get work. I live through it, and I reap the benefits of being courageous another day.

"Why should my love life be any different?"

Edward visibly swallows, his chest rising a little harder as his breath picks up speed. The same burning anticipation coursing through Bella is in his eyes.

"I don't need anyone in my life to make me whole or anything, but I'd like someone to share it with intimately. I'd like to come home to someone who loves me, you know? Yes, I'm still hurt about the way our relationship has played out the last few years, but I love you. I've always loved you. And I want to finally experience the happiness I've always envisioned for myself. For us.

"I'm trusting you to be a changed man, Edward. I'm trusting you to talk to me when things start to become too much for you. When you feel like you need to run, tell me, and I'll give you space so long as you promise to come home. Communication and patience is how we don't become your parents."

Bella is proud of herself when she's finished speaking. She feels light and at ease with her decision, and being the one to bring that look to Edward Cullen's face makes her more than a little cocky.

She can see in his eyes what he's going to do before it happens, but she can't help the gasp of surprise that escapes her when Edward is suddenly beside her, taking her hand and pulling her out of her seat. She's less surprised when he places a crushing kiss to her lips, the tiniest of whimpers caught between their mouths.

She can feel eyes burning a whole through the back of her head, and they're the only reason she pulls away from him. They're in a public setting, and she's not fond of putting on a show for people who didn't ask for it, especially children.

Stepping away, Edward laughs breathlessly. "I'll get the check."

* * *

They walk slowly to Bella's car, lingering in the crowded parking lot. They're so close to each other that their hands constantly brush against each other's, but they do nothing more. Edward pulls open her door, and she tosses her things into the passenger seat.

"Follow me home," Bella says, nervous again now. It's an innocent invitation, but it still kicks up the butterflies. "I just got you back, and I don't want to say goodbye yet."

Edward doesn't say anything, intensely searching her eyes for some sort of sign that she doesn't really want him there, that this is a joke, she supposes. But when he doesn't find it, he slips his hand under her chin and tilts her head back, placing a soft kiss to her lips.

"I'll see you later, then," he says before walking away, only looking back once.


End file.
